


If This Was A Movie, You'd Be Here By Now

by kittyhazelnut



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Dean goes from mourning to yearning, Fix-It, M/M, Post-Finale, but like a slow fix it, the cast of each chapter varies so I'm not going to tag them all, which is kind of an improvement?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-15
Updated: 2021-03-02
Packaged: 2021-03-16 11:07:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 14,388
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29452794
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kittyhazelnut/pseuds/kittyhazelnut
Summary: If Dean had known how nice Heaven could be, he would have killed himself years ago!Dean had always assumed he would only find peace in death. As it turns out, even that’s not enough. It’s nice to see everyone again, of course, but through all the celebrations and all the reunions, he can’t help but think that something’s missing…
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Dean Winchester & Sam Winchester
Kudos: 42





	1. Chapter 1

If Dean had known how nice Heaven could be, he would have killed himself years ago!

… maybe that's not such a good opening. 

Still, standing on this bridge with his brother, gazing out into the beautiful mysteries of Heaven that he's yet to explore, he has to admit that death has done him well. 

And the beauty of Heaven, he realizes, is that he has all of eternity to explore it. He's not limited by the fear of death anymore. He's not limited by human capability. He can do whatever he wants, whenever he wants, and he can do it with whomever he wants to do it with. There's so much to do, so many people to see, and all the time in the world to do it. 

Where is he supposed to start? He's already seen Bobby; he's obviously already seen Sam. Who should he visit next? Should he go back to the Roadhouse? Maybe he'll find Ellen, Jo, and Ash waiting for him. It's been so long since he's seen them and there's so much he has to tell them. 

Or maybe he should go visit his parents. Their last family dinner meant everything to him. He can't imagine how much nicer it will be without the end looking over everything. He can’t remember the last time all four of them were truly happy together. Hell, he’s not sure that’s ever happened. He’d like to think they could fix that now.

Who else will he find here? Charlie? She's gotta be around here somewhere, and after how she went out — and the fact that it wasn't supposed to be her fight to begin with — Dean feels like he owes her an apology. And, as nice as it was to see the other-dimension Charlie, it only served as a reminder of how much he missed his little sister. 

He hates the thought that there are some people who will never be here. He'll never see Benny. He'll never see Crowley. He'll never see Garth. Just about anyone supernatural is lost forever. The only exceptions — he assumes, at least; he hasn't been here long enough to know for sure — are the celestials, those who can come and go as they please: people like Jack and…

"Cas," Dean whispers. That has to be him. Dean would recognize that tan trenchcoat anywhere, and even the shade of the forest isn't going to change that. Cas is here. He’s really _here_.

"Cas?" Sam repeats, immediately looking around for him. "He’s here? Now? How did he…?"

"Dude moves quick," Dean says with a small smile. He was wondering how long it would take to get to see the guy again. When Bobby told him that Cas had someone made it out alive… well, he doesn't know _how_ he felt, but he does know that they have a lot to talk about. 

Dean pushes himself away from the railing and takes off running. He's a ways away in the woods — leave it to Cas to overcomplicate their reunion like that — but no distance is going to keep them apart. Dean runs past his car and past the end of the bridge, but when he reaches the trees, he has to drop his gaze to the ground to make sure he doesn’t trip over the roots. He makes it a little ways into the forest, then looks up where Cas is — 

Where Cas _was_.

“Cas?” Dean looks around, but he’s nowhere to be seen. He was _right there_. Dean saw him. He knows he did. So where did he go? He cups his hands around his mouth and calls out, “Cas!” louder this time. 

There’s no answer.

Dean looks around, confused, but all he sees in the trees is his brother running towards him. As glad as he is to have his brother around, right now, he just wants to see Cas again. 

“Hey, what’s up?” Sam finally catches up to him, panting slightly. “Where’s Cas?”

“I…” Dean looks around one more time, then sighs. “I don’t know. He just… _disappeared_.”

“Are you sure he was here?” Sam asks. “I mean, I didn’t see him.”

“He was,” Dean insists. “I swear, he was _right here_. He was right…” He shakes his head. “I don’t know. Maybe I’m just seeing things.”

Sam pats him on the back. “Don’t worry. He’ll come around.”

“I guess,” Dean says reluctantly. Logically, he knows Sam is right. Cas can’t be everywhere at once; he’s probably just busy. They haven’t been dead very long, after all. Cas may not even know they’re here. He just hopes Cas shows up soon. 

“Now come on,” Sam says. “We’ve got a lot of other people to see.”

Dean lets out a long breath. “Yeah, I guess so.” 

Sam cocks his head to the side. “Unless you don’t want to…?”

“No, no, I do,” Dean assures him. Of course he wants to see everyone. “It just -- without Cas, it feels like such a bittersweet victory.”

“I know,” Sam says sympathetically. “But there’s no point in sitting around waiting for him when there are so many other people around.”

“I guess.”

Sam shakes his head, exasperated. “Look, if you want to throw yourself a pity party, you do that, but _I’m_ gonna see if I can find Ellen and Jo. You coming?”

Dean hesitates, but he has to admit, Sam does have a point. They have all of eternity here. What’s a few hours without Cas when compared to the rest of eternity?


	2. Chapter 2

The Roadhouse is just how Dean remembers it, both inside and out. The counters, the stools, _the alcohol_ … Man, it’s good to be home.

“Welcome back, boys.”

Dean beams at the sound of that old, familiar voice. “Ellen!” 

“Took you long enough,” she says teasingly. 

And she’s not the only one here. She’s sitting at the bar with Bobby on one side and Jo on the other, each with a drink in front of them. God, it’s good to see their faces again. It’s been a decade since he last saw them, and so much has changed since then. There’s so much he wants to fill them in on -- and hopefully they come with stories of their own; he’d hate for him and Sam to do _all_ the talking.

Their meeting starts, unsurprisingly, with some well-deserved hugs. It’s been a long time since he’s been given a hug that wasn’t overshadowed by an impending apocalypse. It’s been a long time since he’s been able to do _anything_ without the constant threat of the end of the world looming over him, now that he thinks about it. If this is what Heaven’s going to be like, he already loves it.

“Hey, Ash, wake up!” Ellen yells. 

Dean follows her gaze to see Ash lying on the pool table, fast asleep. Wow, now it really _is_ like old times. 

When yelling at him doesn’t wake him up, Jo takes matters into her own hands. She grabs a rag from behind the bar, scrunches it into a ball, and throws it at him, hitting him right in the head. Ash jerks awake, sitting upright so quickly that he rolls off the pool table and falls to the floor with a loud _thud_. He tries to sit up _again_ , but he hits his head on the bottom of the pool table. He slides out a foot or so, then tries to sit up for the third time, this time more successfully. He looks around, confused. “Hey, what’s going -- oh, hey, guys!”

Dean shakes his head fondly. God, what a fucking dork. That’s what he loves about the guy, though. He’s somehow both the smartest and the dumbest person Dean has ever met.

“Hey, Ash,” Sam says. He walks over and offers him a hand, which Ash takes to pull himself to his feet. 

“So, you here for good this time or just passing through?” Ash asks.

Dean chuckles. “Here for good, it looks like.”

“Right on.” Ash pumps his fist once for emphasis. 

“So, what happened?” Jo asks. “How’d you bite it?”

“Vampire mimes,” Dean says, because it’s a hell of a lot less embarrassing than saying that a rusty nail did him in. 

“I got old,” Sam says with a shrug. 

The corners of Bobby’s mouth turn up just a little. “Who would've thought a Winchester would get old?"

Sam chuckles. "Not me, that's for sure."

"You meet a girl?" Jo asks with a smirk. 

Sam nods. "Yeah, I did — a hunter, actually, but we both gave it up when we found out she was pregnant."

"You have a kid?" Jo asks, gaping at him. 

"I do — err, _did_. I'm sure you'll get to meet him soon — him and Eileen." 

Dean does a double-take at the sound of that name. "You and Eileen, huh?" He’d always known they were perfect for each other, but in all honesty, he hadn’t expected it to work out. The world is too unpredictable, especially for a hunter. Dean had been sure something would get in the way, and he’s never been so glad to be wrong.

He nods. "Yeah, she came back not long after you died. She really helped keep me together when I had nothing else left."

Dean's mind flashes back to when he was in the same boat and turned to Lisa for help. He'd been prepared for the death of his brother. He'd even had the chance to say goodbye. But when Sam was gone — when he thought Sam was going to be gone forever — he fell apart, and it took a lot for the Braedens to put him back together. He's always had a lot of respect for Eileen, but if she did the same for Sam, Dean's respect has only grown. 

"She sounds great," Ellen says. "I'll make sure I've got a beer ready for her when she finally decides to join us."

"She'll appreciate that," Sam says. 

Jo crosses her arms and cocks an eyebrow inquisitively. "How 'bout you, Dean?"

Dean glances around, confused. "'How 'bout me' what?"

"You ever find someone?" Jo asks. 

"Well…" Dean frowns. How is he supposed to answer that? He's found a _lot_ of people — people who have filled a lot of different roles. Sometimes it was easy. He found Jack, for instance — the kid he never knew he wanted. He had Jody on standby whenever he needed her, the mom he hadn't had for most of his life. Then there was Charlie, who filled the role of his little sister like it was meant for her. 

But sometimes it was harder to put a label on people. Crowley, for instance — they were reluctant allies at best when they first met; by their last meeting, they'd grown close enough for Crowley to sacrifice himself for them. Then there was Benny, the vampire who really introduced him to the moral ambiguity of the things that go bump in the night. In any other situation, they would have been enemies. In Purgatory, anything goes, and their unlikely alliance became something Dean wouldn't even know how to describe. 

And Cas.

Freaking Cas, man. 

If there's one relationship that confuses the absolute hell out of him, it would be theirs. Dean would have done _anything_ for Cas. Sure, they'd had their ups and downs, some fights he'd rather not relive, but when it came down to it, they were there for each other until the very end — an end he's tried his best not to think about since it went down. It all happened so quickly, and by the time Dean had even processed that it was _goodbye_ , Cas was already gone. It felt pointless to revisit it after that, needlessly painful. Now that Bobby says Cas is still alive, though… 

"You did," Jo says quietly, pulling him from his thoughts. "You did find someone."

"I, um…" He runs a hand over his face. A glance at his brother shows Sam looking just as confused as Dean feels, if for a completely different reason. Dean can't explain what he’s thinking -- what he’s _feeling_ \-- and even if he could, he’s not sure he’d want to. He answers the question in the only way he knows how. "I found a family."

"Awww," Jo gushes.

Sam pats him on the back, a small smile on his face. It probably sounds wholesome to him, but in reality, it was more of a wistful comment than anything. Yes, he found a family, but then he lost it. It all fell apart in a matter of _days_. Is that really worth celebrating?

"Families are few and far between in that line of work," Bobby remarks. "I'm glad you both found yours."

"And you got another one up here," Ellen adds, lifting her bottle of beer as if for a toast. "Now grab a drink and sit down. I wanna hear some stories."

“Oh, trust me,” Sam says, “we’ve got _plenty_ of them.”

As Sam and Dean sit down at the bar, Jo heads to the other side, pulling out a couple of beer bottles and dropping one in front of each of the Winchesters. With every passing moment, this place feels more like home. Even something as simple as Jo serving drinks reminds him of old times, though he has to admit that he does feel a little bad having Jo wait on them in Heaven. At least on Earth it was her job, but he’s pretty sure there _are_ no jobs in Heaven. Still, she doesn’t seem to mind, so he doesn’t mention it.

“Now,” Ash says, “you guys _gotta_ tell us about this Jack kid because I have _so_ many questions.”

Sam chuckles. “Yeah, I’m not surprised. He’s… Well, he’s an interesting kid, that’s for sure.”

“He’s basically God,” Dean adds, “in case you haven’t picked that one up yet.”

“Oh, trust me,” Jo says, “we know that much.”

“The dude’s weird, though,” Ash says. “I always thought God would be more…” He gestures vaguely. “ _Not that_ , you know?”

“If you thought he was weird, you should’ve seen the old guy,” Dean remarks. Chuck was… well, he was Chuck. Power-hungry Chuck trying to destroy the multiverse was weird, and alcoholic writer Chuck was another, equally-as-frustrating weird. There really wasn’t a very long period of time in which Chuck _actually_ portrayed himself as the God people would come to expect; most of the time, he was just weird (and, especially in the last year, he was a dick, too). 

“The old --” Jo cuts herself off with the shake of her head. “Do I even want to ask?”

“Probably not,” Dean says. Their whole adventure with Chuck is going to make a great story someday, but it hits a little too close to home at the moment. Right now, what matters is that they took care of him. He’s living out his worst life on Earth, and then he’s heading straight to Hell, and there’s no way Rowena’s letting him off easy down there.

“Jack defeated God and took his power and his place,” Sam explains briefly. Seeing the confused looks he gets, he adds, “It was a whole big thing.”

Ellen shakes her head. “I miss when hunting meant werewolves and wendigos.”

Dean chuckles. “You’re not the only one.” That was one of the plus-sides about those last couple of weeks he had on Earth. He and Sam didn’t have to save the world anymore; they could just hunt. It was nice to take on some lowkey monsters for once. 

"You haven't told us about Jack, though," Jo says. "Where'd he come from?"

"Believe it or not," Sam says, "he's actually Lucifer's son."

Ash raises an eyebrow. "You mean _Lucifer_ Lucifer? Prince of Hell guy?"

"The one and only," Dean says. Looking around, he can see some questionable expressions — mostly from the three that had the misfortune of actually encountering Lucifer and his mutts — and he figures it's worth throwing in a disclaimer. "He barely knew Lucifer, though, and they definitely didn't see eye-to-eye. Jack always said his dad was…"

_Cas._

His dad was _Cas_.

Dean trails off. He's not sure he trusts himself to speak. He _definitely_ doesn't trust himself to talk about Cas. He knows the guy's alive — or at least that Bobby says he is — but that doesn't mean shit until they meet again. Until he sees Cas's face, until he hears Cas's voice, it's going to feel like he's still gone. Hell, if he's being honest, he's not even sure Cas _is_ still around. If he hasn't come around by now...

"Dean?" Sam says quietly, his voice full of concern. 

Dean waves that off, turning his face away just in case the emotion starts to pile up on him. He's done a damn good job at hiding it for the last few weeks, but now that he's in Heaven — now that he knows there's a chance Cas could come back — it's really starting to hit hard. He doesn't want anyone to see that he's starting to fall apart at the seams, especially now that he finally has the chance to be _happy_. 

Wait a second.

What's that outside the window?

Dean squints his eyes, but it's too far away for him to know for sure. All he knows is that he sees a flash of tan outside, and tan… well, tan usually means one thing. 

"Dean, are you okay?" Ellen asks slowly. 

"Um…" Dean purses his lips. What’s he supposed to say? _Hey, I just saw something outside that I think might be Cas for no reason other than the fact that I saw tan. I know it would make no sense for it to actually be Cas because he wouldn’t just stand outside like that, but it really did look like him._ Because _that_ would go over well. But even if it doesn’t make sense for that to be him, Dean has to check. 

Dean mutters a quick, “Hold that thought,” and runs outside. If Cas is out there, Dean wants to see him. He _needs_ to see him. It's been too damn long, and right now Cas is the only piece of the puzzle he needs to finally feel at peace here. 

"Cas?" Dean calls, looking around frantically. Where did it go? Even if it wasn’t Cas, Dean _knows_ he saw something out here, but there’s nothing tan out here -- nothing that could even be mistaken for tan. Something or someone was out here, and now it’s gone.

Again. 

A hand against his back makes him jump, and he whips around to see Sam standing behind him. Dean fights back a sigh. For a second he'd almost thought it was… but it wasn't. Of course it wasn’t him. It's like Sam said: Cas is probably busy, and he'll swing by when he gets the chance. Until then, Dean just has to wait. 

"Dean, are you okay?" Sam asks warily. "You've been acting really _off_ today."

"I'm — I'm fine," Dean says, but it falls flat even to his own ears. He forces a smile and tries again. "Aces." 

Sam just raises an eyebrow. 

"Look, I thought I saw something and then I didn't," Dean says. "Honest mistake."

"Mm-hmm," Sam hums, clearly unconvinced -- which makes sense, because it’s not like Dean has been very convincing. 

Dean scowls and grabs Sam's arm, dragging him back inside without a word. He's not going to stand here and talk about the fact that he's probably losing his mind. Their friends are here. Their _family_ is here. Why should they stand out here when there’s a perfect distraction right inside the door?


	3. Chapter 3

Dean hesitates outside the front door, his outstretched hand just inches from the doorbell. Once he presses it, there's no backing out. Whatever's going to happen is going to happen, and he'll have to deal with it in real-time. 

"Dean?" Sam says cautiously, "are you okay?"

"Yeah, 'course I am," Dean says. He drops his hand and looks up at his brother with a sigh. "I just — I don't want to mess this up, you know? What if it only went so well last time because we _knew_ it wasn't going to last? What if, now that this is permanent, it just…"

"Falls apart?" Sam finishes for him. "You're right; it could fall apart. We might walk away and never want to come back. But we could also have our first ever normal, peaceful family dinner. We're not kids anymore, Dean. We've grown. _They've_ grown."

"But what if we haven't grown enough?" Dean asks quietly. 

Sam gives a small shrug. "We won't know until we try it."

Dean hesitates, but he knows Sam is right. He can't hide from his parents because he's afraid to ruin this perfect relationship that he's not even sure they actually have. He's just wanted this for so long -- practically his whole life -- and he’s terrified that it won’t be everything he’s ever dreamed of. 

"So," Sam says, "are you ready?"

Dean chuckles dryly. "Not at all." He runs a hand down his face. “But the show must go on, right?” He looks over at his brother and forces a smile that he _knows_ Sam isn’t going to believe. “Alright, let’s --”

Wait a second.

Dean gently pushes his brother out of the way, gazing out past him at the road in the distance. Is this real? Is that…?

“What?” Sam asks quickly. “What is it?”

“It’s --” Dean cuts himself off. He’s not going to say it. He’s not going to tell Sam that he sees Cas yet again; not after the last couple of times he said it and ended up looking like an idiot when there was no one there. 

But he _knows_ Cas is there. He’s standing out in the open, no trees out there to cover him this time. He’s looking right at them, like he _wants_ them to see him. Like he wants to _talk_ to them. Dean’s not sure if that includes Sam -- it probably does -- but first, Dean wants to talk to him alone. They have a conversation to finish, and it’s one that Sam has no part in. 

“I’ll be right back,” Dean says, his gaze never straying from the angel. 

“What --?”

Dean doesn’t wait for him to finish, instead darting away from the house and down to the street. He’s careful not the make the same mistake he made twice before; he watches Cas the whole way. The closer he gets, the more certain he is that it _is_ Cas, a reassurance that he didn’t have the two times prior. He can make out Cas’s face now, a blank expression but eyes that follow Dean’s every step. 

It’s Cas. 

It’s really Cas.

An ugly yellow car drives by, slowly traveling down the road and going right between Dean and Cas. When the car’s out of the way, Cas is gone. Just like that.

“Oh, _come on!_ ” Dean groans, slamming his foot against the ground and kicking up a tuft of grass in the process. He was _right there!_ He was _right fucking there_ and now he’s gone! 

“Dean?”

Dean looks over at the car that’s pulled over to the side of the road, ready to give the driver a peace of his mind. That plan changes when he sees a little redhead peak her face out of the driver’s side window. 

“Charlie!” Dean beams, jogging over to her window to greet her. “What are you doing here?”

“What do you mean, what am I doing here?” she asks. “I’m dead, remember? The real question is what are _you_ doing here?”

“Well, I _know_ that,” Dean says, rolling his eyes. “We’re both dead. I mean what are you doing _here?_ Because I have a feeling you’re not also visiting my parents.”

“What?” Charlie says, confused. “No, I live here. Like, right over there.” She points vaguely down the street. “Wait, where do your parents live? Have we been neighbors this whole time?”

“Apparently,” Dean says with a shrug. “They live over there." He jerks a thumb behind him, pointing back at the house. It's the same house he grew up in, and it's admittedly a little uncomfortable being back here.

"Huh." Charlie looks over his shoulder. "Oh, hey, Sam's here!" She waves at him, and Dean doesn't bother to check if Sam waves back. "I'll leave you two to it, but when you get the chance, you should totally come by and visit."

"We will," Dean assures her. 

"I'm holding you to that," she says. "20 Day Street. Don't forget it."

"Wouldn't dream of it," Dean replies. "Hey, before you go, I just gotta ask…"

"What's up?" Charlie asks. 

"When you drove by," Dean says, "did you see Cas?"

Charlie cocks her head to the side. "No, I haven't seen Cas in years. Why?”

Dean shakes his head. “Never mind.” Changing the subject before she can look too much into it, he says, “It’s really nice to see you again, Charlie. I’ll drag Sam by when we get the chance.”

“You better,” Charlie says with a playful grin. “ _Arrivederci_ , bitches.”

Dean watches Charlie drive away, taking solace in these last few moments he has to himself before he has to explain to Sam what the hell just happened. He was _so sure_ Cas was here. He saw his face; he saw his trenchcoat; he saw _him_. He knows he did. But he’s not here now and Charlie seems to think he never was, so, what, is Dean just losing his mind? Nearly 40 years of hunting monsters, and losing Cas is what finally did him in? Well, this is going to be a fun eternity of delusions.

Dean heaves a sigh. Well, he might as well get this over with. He walks back to his parents’ front stoop, taking his time as he does because he’s really in no rush to have this conversation or this dinner. It looks like Sam had almost started to follow him because he’s now just below the first step, his face laced with concern. This is going to be fun.

“Dean?” Sam says warily. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing,” Dean says quickly. “It’s nothing. Don’t worry about it.”

“No, I’m definitely worrying about it,” Sam says. “What’s going on with you? That’s the third time you’ve gone running off in two days. What’s going on with you, Dean?”

“Nothing!” Dean repeats, more forcefully this time.

“Is it about Cas?” Sam asks. 

Dean freezes. How did he know that? Does he know something that Dean doesn’t? Better yet, did he see Cas, too? Was Dean right? Was he really here?

“Dean.” Sam puts a hand on his shoulder. “He’ll be here. Just give him time. Who knows what else he’s got on his plate right now?”

Dean sighs. So Sam _didn’t_ see him. Sam didn’t see him; Charlie didn’t see him; _no one_ saw him. Dean really _is_ losing his mind, isn’t he? 

“Come on,” Sam says, patting him on the back twice before turning around. “Let’s go see Mom and Dad.”

Dean decides against arguing. He’s still not too eager to see how tonight’s family dinner goes, but at least it should get his mind off Cas for a while. That’s what he needs right now: a distraction. 

The two brothers walk up the front steps, and, after taking one last moment to prepare himself, Dean rings the doorbell. He clasps his hands in front of him as he waits for someone to get the door, just waiting to see how this will play out. 

It’s Mary who opens the door, a big grin on her face. “Boys, you made it!” She pulls them both into a hug. “It’s so good to see you guys!”

“You too, Mom,” Sam says. 

“I’ve been waiting for this day for such a long time.” Mary pulls away, her smile just as big and bright. “I still can’t believe it’s finally here.”

“I know,” Sam agrees. “It’s been a long time coming.”

Mary steps back, giving them space to enter. "Well, come in! Your dad's setting the table."

Sam heads inside first, and, after a moment's hesitation, Dean does the same. He's only been back here once since his mother died, and the whole house had been entirely rebuilt since then. Stepping back through this doorway for the first time in 36 years is jarring, to say the least.

John is just finishing setting the table when Dean steps into view. He beams at the sight of his two boys, and Dean can't help but smile, too. His dad had always put hunting before fatherhood. As much as Dean hated it, it made sense; there were so many people’s lives on the line and his father was in a unique position to save them. 

Now that monsters are barely a thought in their minds, there’s already a completely different atmosphere than there was growing up. It’s different than it was as a toddler, even. There’s no ill will between his parents anymore, nor between his dad and Sam. They’re just a family now, in a way they’ve never been before. 

“You made it!” The silverware forgotten, John heads over to his kids, giving them each a big hug. Dean honestly isn’t sure what to do. It’s not like his dad _never_ hugged them, but it used to be indicative of something big going on. Sometimes hugs would come with apologies; sometimes they would come with goodbyes that may never have another hello. But a hug just for the sake of a hug? That’s not how his dad usually operates.

“Hey, Dad,” Sam says, and he seems happy. He’s _happy_ here. He’s not sure he expected his brother to be as wary as he is, but he definitely didn’t expect him to accept this so readily -- to _embrace_ it so readily. 

“There is _so much_ I want to say to you boys,” John says, “but according to your mother, I’ve been through time and said it all before.” He shakes his head at that, like the concept is so foreign to him. It’s a lot like how he reacted back then, too: he couldn’t believe what nearly 13 years of hunting had led to. Apparently that much hasn’t changed.

Dean cocks his head to the side. “You don’t remember?” 

“No, I don’t,” John replies. “Well, not much. I thought it was just a dream at the time; the details have faded over the years. I didn't even know it ever happened until your mother told me a year or so ago."

"Oh." Dean frowns. It makes sense that he doesn't remember it. It would have changed the entire course of history if he'd known how his sons would turn out 15 years down the road. If he'd known that hunting Azazel would send them down such a dark road whose only ending was death — and even that only worked after the first few times — he doubtlessly would have stopped hunting back in 2003. 

Even so, the fact that his father doesn't really remember _anything_ … it kind of hurts. That was such a pivotal moment in their relationship. After 23 years of doing everything he could to win his dad's approval, it was the first time he'd ever genuinely felt validated. Now it's almost like that never happened. Does his validation count if John doesn't remember giving it? Does it count coming from a John of such a different time? 

Mary puts a hand on his back and he flinches involuntarily. She looks up at him, concerned. "Dean, honey, are you okay?"

"I'm fine," Dean assures her. "I'm — I'm great. Really." He plasters a smile on his face. "Now, what are we standing around here for? Didn't you say there'd be food?"

John chuckles. "You haven't changed a bit."

Dean absolutely _has_ changed, and he'd be surprised if his father really doesn't see it. Last time they spoke, John seemed to think he'd changed for the better. Looking back at these last few years, Dean's not so sure about that. He supposes it doesn't matter. He just wants to forget it all and have a nice family dinner. Why is that so hard for him?

The moment that Dean sees the spaghetti and meatballs on the countertop, though, all his problems are forgotten. His mother is no Gordon Ramsey, but damn if she doesn't make some good fucking meatballs. He probably takes more than his fair share — and definitely more than he should take at one time — but no one tells him off for it. His parents exchange amused looks and Sam rolls his eyes, but he Dean is perfectly okay with it as long as he gets his food. 

They sit around the table together, food in hand, and Dean is reminded once again of their last dinner, if only because this one is so much nicer. There's no existential dread overshadowing their every move. They can just _be_.

"You know I have to ask," Mary says, looking over at Sam with a small smirk. "Who's the girl?"

Sam chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. "You heard about that, huh?"

"Word travels fast around here," Mary says with a shrug. "So? Tell me about her."

Dean would probably be a little annoyed that Sam gets all the attention if it didn't give him the perfect chance to shove all this food in his mouth. He bites back a satisfied moan. _Meatballs_ , man. It doesn't get much better than that. 

Dean only half-listens as they talk. It's all the same stuff Sam said at the Roadhouse, and while Dean is just as happy for him now as he was the day before, he is, admittedly, much less interested. He's just glad Sam was happy.

When that conversation winds down, Mary turns her attention to Dean, probably to split up the attention. "What ever happened with Jack?"

"He got his soul back," Dean tells her, which he's sure comes as a bigger relief to her than she lets on. "He's playing God over Heaven and Earth now — and, from what I've heard, he's doing it pretty well." He made _this_ possible, after all. What more could Dean ask from him?

"If he has his soul back, I'll give him the benefit of the doubt with that," Mary says.

"He's just a kid, isn't he?" John asks, taken aback.

"He grew up fast," Dean says. It's one thing they had in common. 

"I'm sure Cas is watching over him," Mary says. "Cas wouldn't let him play God alone."

"Exactly," Sam says, looking pointedly at his brother. "Cas was God once, too, remember? If anyone knows how easily power can get to someone's head, it's him. Can you blame him for spending so much time with him?"

"I know," Dean says for what feels like the millionth time over the last two days. "He's busy; got other stuff to do. I get it." Under his breath, he mutters a quiet, "Doesn't mean he couldn't come by and say 'hi,' though." 

Mary raises an eyebrow. "What's going on here?"

"Dean's —"

" _Nothing_ ," Dean interrupts, shooting his brother a look. 

Sam ignores him. "Dean's been waiting for Cas to drop everything and check in ever since Bobby told him that Cas is alive."

Dean narrows his eyes. Just because he's _right_ doesn't mean he has to tell everyone. 

"Why _wouldn't_ he be alive?" Mary asks. "What happened?"

Dean drops his gaze to the table, fidgeting with his hands in his lab. He could explain that Death was on their ass and he could explain the deal with the Empty, but he's not sure he could explain how they relate. He's not sure he _wants_ to. That was a private moment between the two of them and he'd like to keep it that way. 

Sam steps in with, "Apparently the Empty took him back, but they took Death down with them."

That's the official story, at least. It's the one Sam managed to scrape together from what little Dean would say about it, and it is, to a point, the truth. It just neglects what Dean considers to be the most important part: that the Empty only took them because Cas knew it would save Dean's life.

That fact has haunted him since it all went down. The only one who bears more responsibility for Cas's death than Billie and the Empty is Dean. They were just doing their jobs, following through with promises they'd made in the past. Dean did something much worse. He convinced Cas that he was worth his sacrifice. He convinced Cas that he was worth his _love_.

"That sounds like him," Mary says, and Dean lifts his gaze to see a small smile on her face. "A fighter to the very end."

"He sure was," Sam agrees. 

Dean just forces a smile. It would be one thing if he was fighting to save the world; it's another thing for him to die fighting to save Dean. 

"I have a feeling I'm going to like him," John remarks. 

"Everyone likes Cas," Sam says. 

"When he finally does come around," Mary says, "you should send him over here. Jack, too, if you see him."

"We will," Sam assures her. "We'll have the whole family together in no time."

Dean has to admit, that sounds really nice. He just wishes he could believe it. 


	4. Chapter 4

A week passes and Cas still hasn't come by. Every time Dean brings it up — usually to Sam but occasionally to others as well — he's hit with the reminder that they haven't seen Jack either. He thinks it's supposed to be reassuring, but the fact that Cas and Jack are likely out there changing the world doesn't do much to quell his disappointment about Cas's continued absence. 

There comes a point when Dean stops mentioning Cas entirely. He knows he’ll just get the same response, a little more exasperated each time, and it never makes him feel any better. That doesn’t stop him from thinking about Cas, though, as much as he wishes he could. There's one thing in particular that's been bugging him over the past couple of days, and, finally, he decides he has to ask. 

“Hey, Sam?” Dean says hesitantly, breaking the silence that had stretched on for the entirety of their walk to the bakery so far.

“What’s up?” Sam asks. He seems cheerful, but, again, this is Heaven. It would only make sense that he’s enjoying it. If anything, it’s Dean’s uncertainty that must be out-of-place.

Dean takes a deep breath, trying to prepare himself for an answer he’s not sure he wants. “Did you ever tell Cas that you loved him?”

Sam looks down at him with a frown. "Dean, Cas knows we love him."

"But have you ever _told_ him that?" Dean asks. "Did anyone ever tell him that?"

"Yeah, probably," Sam says. "I mean, we've known him for 12 years. I'm sure one of us has said it before."

"So you're _not_ sure," Dean surmises. "You don't know if anyone's ever told him they love him."

Sam sighs. "All I know is that Cas is family. I know it. You know it. He knows it. If it's bothering you that much, tell him next time you see him, and when he says 'I know,' I will be the first one to make a _Star Wars_ joke."

Dean wishes more than anything that he had as much faith as his brother. A month ago, Dean is sure he would have said the same. For the longest time, Cas was like a boomerang. No matter how hard Dean threw him away, he would always come back. Dean had always assumed that was because he knew they loved him. It's only now starting to sink in that the reality is that Cas came back because he loved them _._

Because he loved _Dean._

 _The one thing I want, it's something I know I can't have_.

He really has no idea, does he?

Dean lets out a long breath. "You know, I don't really want pie right now."

Sam stops in his tracks, gaping at him. " _You_ don't want pie."

Dean gives a small shrug. "I've got the rest of eternity to eat pie. I think I'm gonna hold off for now."

Sam scoffs. "Who are you and what have you done with my brother?" 

Dean rolls his eyes, a small smile on his lips. "Yeah, yeah. Go ahead, get all your jokes out now."

"You know I will," Sam says. He eyes his brother for a moment, then asks, "This isn't still about Cas, is it?"

"Of course not," Dean lies. 

"Okay, good," Sam says, though he still seems unconvinced. "Because Cas would definitely tell you to eat some pie if he was here."

_But he's not here._

"I know," Dean says, and it's true. Cas has always seemed to like watching Dean eat his beloved pie. Dean can still picture that little smile he would always wear, showing both his adoration and his amusement. "I'm just not feeling it today. I'll see you later, though, okay? Don't have too much fun without me."

"No promises," Sam says. 

Dean smiles at that, but the second his back is turned, his face falls. He can't believe it's taken him so long to realize that he's never told Cas that he loves him. How many times has Cas said it? And Dean's never said it back? _Nobody_ has ever said it back?

He's never going to forgive himself for not telling him sooner, but he's going to fix it. It's going to be the first thing he says next time he sees Cas. Of course, that's entirely dependent on if he ever sees Cas again, which is starting to look less and less likely every day, but he still has at least a little hope.

Thinking about all his past mistakes isn't doing anyone any favors, though, and sticking with Sam as he does it was only going to drag him down too. That leaves Dean with two choices: he could either sulk alone at home or he could go for a walk. As much as he likes his new Heavenly house, taking a stroll through the woods seems like a better way to clear his mind. 

It's been a while since he's taken time to admire all that nature has to offer. Admittedly, much of the blame rests on his time in Purgatory, but he's realizing now that his year of fighting like hell to survive didn't make the natural world any less beautiful; it just stopped him from noticing.

Dean runs a hand down one of the trees — a birch tree that's a bit shorter than the trees around it, though no less beautiful. A sheet of bark floats down to the ground, and the wind carries it away, never to be seen again. 

Is this truly nature, though? Is there such a thing as nature in Heaven? Where does all of this even come from? Did Jack make it? Did he go through the trouble of creating each individual tree with such care so that everyone could admire their beauty? Did Cas help him? Is touching this tree the closest he'll get to touching Cas? 

A distant crunching of leaves brings Dean back to reality. He looks around, hoping in the back of his mind that it will be Cas finally coming around. 

It's not. 

From this distance, he can't quite make out who he's looking at. He can make out the two figures, though, and the fact that the taller one is dressed in black is enough for Dean to know it's not Cas. The shorter one wears a lighter ensemble, but not one reminiscent of Cas's infamous trenchcoat. Unless Cas decides to give himself a makeover, he's not here. 

Dean is torn between approaching them to see who they are and walking away in case it's someone he doesn't want to see. He's not sure who would be on that list, but even just an awkward interaction with a stranger would be weird. He’s yet to run into anyone he didn’t want to see, though, so it’s probably a safe assumption that whoever this is, it’s someone Dean likes. 

Dean makes his way towards them, his gaze switching between the ground to avoid tripping over roots and the figures in the distance so they don’t disappear the way he could have sworn Cas did the other day. If he’s now hallucinating people other than Cas, he’d like to know that sooner rather than later.

It doesn’t take long for Dean to get a clear look at their faces. He doesn’t recognize the shorter one at first. She's a girl, though her clothes are so weirdly outdated that he almost wouldn't know it from this distance if he didn't notice her long dark hair in a braid to the side. 

He doesn't place where he recognizes her until he sees the man she's walking with. He'd recognize that face anywhere — and in a forest, no less. It would almost feel like fate, had he believed in such a thing. Who better to run into while alone in the woods than his Purgatory buddy Benny Laffite? And that, of course, makes the girl with him Andrea, his ex flame (though the fact that they're taking a stroll through the Heavenly woods together makes Dean think they might be ex-exes).

It seems Dean isn't the only one to recognize a familiar face, because just moments after he realizes who it is, Benny waves. The movement is big enough that Dean has no doubt it was directed at him, and the fact that Benny's still heading his way is enough for Dean to know that he's not interrupting anything. 

Dean picks up the pace, and they meet in the middle with a big hug. God, it feels like it’s been a lifetime since they last saw each other. What little hope he’d had of ever seeing him again had been dashed the last time he was in Purgatory when he was met with a very confident “he’s dead” from the local monsters. This is a pleasant surprise, to say the least.

“Benny, buddy,” Dean says, stepping away to look at him. He certainly seems to be all in one peace, head attached and all. “How the hell…?”

“I know,” Benny says with a sly smile, “I look great.”

“I mean, _yeah_ , but…” Dean makes some big, vague gestures to him because he knows damn well that he can’t articulate his thoughts in words or movements. “You’re in Heaven!”

“So I’ve heard,” Benny replies. “I gotta be honest, brother, I got no idea what I did to deserve this, but it sure beats Purgatory, I’ll give it that.”

“Don’t I know it,” Dean agrees.

Andrea looks back and forth between them. "I can tell you two have a lot to talk about, so I'm going to leave you to it."

"Alright." Benny puts a hand on her shoulder and presses a kiss to her head. "I’ll see you later.”

“Bye, Benny.” She looks up at the other man and adds a less enthusiastic, though by no means hostile, “Bye, Dean.”

Dean just nods once because he has absolutely no idea how else to respond. He helped kill her just a few years ago. That’s probably not an easy thing for their relationship -- or lack thereof -- to recover from. He watches her walk away, waiting until she’s presumably out of earshot before turning back to his friend.

“So, what happened?” Dean asks. “Last time I was in Purgatory, I heard you were dead -- or, you know, more dead than usual.”

“You went back to Purgatory without me? Dean, I’m offended,” Benny says with a teasing smile. 

“Just a day trip,” Dean says. “I would’ve brought you back with me if I could’ve.”

“Ah, well, unfortunately, I had leveled up in the world,” Benny says. “Apparently when you die in Purgatory, you just wake up in a whole new one. Only nice thing about it is that you know everyone there’s died before and they can die again.”

“And then you ended up here,” Dean says. “How the hell did that happen?”

“It was your angel, actually,” Benny tells him.

Dean scoffs. “ _Cas?_ ”

“As far as I know, he’s the only angel you got,” Benny remarks. “Believe me, I was just as surprised as you.”

“So you saw him?” Dean asks. “You saw Cas?”

“I did,” Benny says. “He didn’t stay and chat long; something about the kid he was with.”

So Sam was right; Cas _is_ spending his downtime with Jack. It’s nice to know that he’s okay, but it still stings. They had time to find Benny and Andrea in Purgatory, but neither of them will stop by for a visit?

“Did they tell you what you’re doing here?” Dean asks. “Or how? I mean, are you still a…”

“”Vampirate’?” Benny finishes for him, a small smirk on his lips. He opens his mouth, baring his fangs for just a few seconds before tucking them away. “The first half, at least.”

“So, what, vampires can go to Heaven now?”

“Guess so,” Benny says. “He said they were making some changes to the natural order of things. I tried asking what he meant but I didn’t get much of an answer. All I know is I’m here and Andrea’s here and we’ve got Cas to thank for it.”

Dean scoffs. “I never thought I’d see the day.”

“You and me both, brother.”

A flash of movement over Benny’s shoulder catches Dean’s attention. It’s subtle, a small flash of tan in the distance. Dean makes a point of not looking over there. This isn’t the first time he’s seen something like this in the last few days, but he’s gotten better at not acknowledging it. Sam’s convinced he’s lost his mind and chasing ghosts is definitely not helping his case. 

Cas isn’t here. Benny is. That’s what matters. 

“How long have you been here?” Dean asks. How soon after Dean’s death did Cas decide to bring Benny up here? He has to imagine it was for him; he and Benny may have started warming up to each other over time, but they were far from friends. 

“This is day three,” Benny tells him. “I swear, it’s a whole new world up here. I’ve never been too fond of the idea of eternity, but I’ll be honest, brother, I wouldn’t mind spending eternity here.”

"I don't blame you," Dean says. "Especially with Andrea here." The fact that she's here is arguably more surprising than Cas bringing Benny back. At least Dean and Cas _knew_ Benny. Andrea was only around in passing, and, as far as Dean knows, she and Cas never crossed paths. 

"I'd always been told the only way a human and a vampire could spend eternity together was if the human was turned," Benny remarks. "Leave it to Castiel to break that law of nature, too."

Dean cocks his head to the side. "But she _was_ a vampire."

"Not anymore," Benny says. Noting Dean's confused look, he adds, "I know, it’s weird. I would’ve asked Castiel about it but he never came back. Haven’t seen him since.”

“Still,” Dean says, “it’s gotta be nice. It’s what you thought you could have before your nest, you know…” With the click of his tongue, he jerks his thumb over his throat, miming Benny’s decapitation. 

“A lot’s changed since then,” Benny says, “but between you and me, brother, this is as close to paradise as I think anyone’ll ever get.”

“I hear that,” Dean agrees. It’s far from perfect, but it’s as close to perfect as possible.

“Now, you know how I bit it,” Benny says, “but what about you? What finally did you in?”

“Well, you’ve heard of vampirates,” Dean says. “Now get ready for mimepires.”

Benny shakes his head. “I’m sorry I asked.”

Dean chuckles. “Yeah, it was really something. As long as they don’t get to take a trip to paradise, too, though, I’m fine with it.” 

“I’ve yet to see another vampire -- or a mime, for that matter -- so I don’t think you have to worry about it,” Benny tells him. 

Dean’s distracted yet again by movement over Benny’s shoulder, and this time, he can’t stop himself from looking. The tan he had seen earlier manifests itself as Cas -- big surprise there -- watching them from a distance. This time, though, he’s not alone. Jack is by his side, looking up at him and showing far less interest in Dean and Benny than Cas is. 

Dean tries to remind himself that they aren’t here. They were _never_ here. Dean’s come to accept that he’s losing his mind, but he doesn’t need to spread the news to anyone who will listen.

Benny notices his gaze stray, though, and asks a tentative, “What is it?”

“Nothing,” Dean says quickly. “Thought I saw something.”

Benny looks over his shoulder, and Dean prepares himself for the inevitable “There’s nothing there” that he’s received far too many times for his comfort. That’s why he’s so surprised to hear his friend ask, “What are they _doing_?”

Dean’s eyes widen. “You see them, too?”

Benny raises an eyebrow. “I may be dead, but I ain’t blind.”

"No, I know, it's just — no one else ever sees him," Dean says. “I thought I was goin’ Looney Tunes for a while there, but if you see them...” 

“Ah, well, they are definitely there,” Benny says. “Now, I don’t know about you, but I got some questions for him.”

“Believe me, you’re not the only one,” Dean says. "So? What d'ya say? Up for a full Purgatory family reunion?"

"Always."

No sooner have the two men taken the first few steps when Jack and Cas disappear, gone without a trace. Dean and Benny stop in their tracks, staring straight ahead at the spot the two once stood. 

"Well," Benny says after a long pause, "he hasn't changed a bit."

"Trust me," Dean mutters, "he's changed a lot."


	5. Chapter 5

Dean was okay with the fact that sleep is still a necessity in Heaven, even if it doesn't make sense. It breaks up the days and makes the concept of eternity a little less daunting. It also helps that he has the time for a full eight-hour rest, a luxury not often afforded to living hunters. 

But why the hell is it so freaking hard to actually fall asleep here? 

Admittedly, it's probably not Heaven's fault. He has a nice bed in a quiet house, and it's arguably even more comfortable than his room at the bunker was. This is about as much of a favor Heaven could offer short of a button specifically for the task. 

The problem is that his brain won't just shut up. He's still trying to rationalize everything that's happened today, to explain the unexplainable. And, unsurprisingly, much of his confusion rests on Cas. 

He's been to Heaven. Hell, apparently he was here just a couple of days ago. Why would he take the time to talk to Benny, albeit very briefly, and not visit Dean? It just doesn't make sense — unless, of course, Cas is just avoiding him, which is starting to look more and more likely. 

But he's not avoiding him entirely. If Benny saw him today, he _had_ to be there. Dean's still not sure how that bodes for the first few times he saw Cas when no one else could, but this time he _knows_ Cas was there and that's the important thing. 

Why were Cas and Jack watching him if they were just going to leave the moment Dean tried to approach them? And why does he have a feeling it was Cas's decision? Is it just the guilt that's been stewing in him since it happened, triggered by Cas's sacrifice but compounded by every memory of Dean mistreating him? Or is it something more, something based on facts that he can't quite pinpoint?

After what feels like hours of tossing and turning — though he's almost certain it hasn't actually been that long — he gives up on this seemingly fruitless mission to sleep. He can't rest until he knows what's going on with Cas, and if there's one thing he's learned over the years, it's that praying is the most foolproof way of reaching him. 

Dean kicks the covers off and sits up, crossing his legs like a child. He folds his hands in his lap, his head bowed and his eyes closed. Here goes nothing.

"Hey, Cas," Dean says quietly. "It, uh…" He chuckles awkwardly. "It's been a while." 

He clears his throat. "I'm gonna be honest, man. I'm worried about you. I'm worried about _us_. You know? I mean, where have you _been?_ It's been weeks, Cas. I would've hoped you'd at least stop by to say 'hi.'

"I saw you today. In the woods — I saw you. I think you know that, though. I think you know I wanted to talk to you, too; that's why you left. And, I mean, if you don't want to talk to me, that's okay, but at least tell me _why_. I mean…" He scoffs. "Cas, buddy, you're my best friend. If I fucked up somewhere, I want to know how. I want to fix it. I want to have you back in my life — or, you know, as much of a life as I have now that I'm dead. I'll even settle for a two-minute conversation, an explanation for why you seem to be avoiding me. Just talk to me. Please."

Dean takes a deep breath. This isn't enough. Just asking for Cas to show his face isn't enough; he needs to show that he's sorry. Whether that's what Cas is looking for, Dean's not quite sure, but he knows _he_ won't feel okay until he does it. 

"I've been doing a lot of thinking lately," Dean continues. "And I don't think I've given you enough credit. You've always been there for me. You have, and I'm starting to realize that I haven't always returned the favor and I'm so, so sorry. I can't fix the past, but I can promise to do better if you let me. I mean, Cas, man, you're family. Of course you're family, and if I've never told you before, I'm telling you now: I love you for it. I love you for that and for so much more.

"I know you're probably busy, what with apparently reshaping the afterlife as we know it or whatever, but _please_ , Cas, when you get a minute, come here. Come talk to me. I don't care when or where; I just miss you."

Dean opens his eyes and slowly raises his head, hoping against hope that maybe — just _maybe_ — Cas will already be here. 

He's not. 

Dean heaves a sigh. He knew it was too much to hope for. But if Cas heard his prayer — and he always does — then maybe he'll come tomorrow. Maybe he'll come in a few days. At this point, Dean doesn't care when he sees Cas. He just wants to see him. 


	6. Chapter 6

Dean had prayed to Cas in hopes that he'd get to see the angel; he hadn't anticipated it would have the exact opposite effect. Dean doesn't catch sight of him at all over the next week, even from a distance. He's just _gone_. To say it’s frustrating would be an understatement, but unfortunately, he’s not sure there’s much he can do about it beyond keeping an eye out for any subtle stalkers in the area. 

Despite all of this, Dean puts on a cheerful face when he’s with his friends and family, and though Sam had definitely been concerned before, by now, he seems to have moved on -- or, more likely, seems to think Dean has moved on. That’s not true in the slightest, but he won’t admit it aloud. He’s just glad to have some semblance of normalcy now. 

The Winchesters have seen a lot of friends over the past few weeks, but there’s one person they haven’t gotten around to visiting yet, and that’s one oversight they have to rectify. They can only stay away from Charlie for so long, after all, and she _did_ tell them to come by when they got the chance.

Sam knocks on the front door of what Dean really hopes is her house. A minute or so passes, and both brothers wait silently on the doorsteps, growing a little less certain by the moment. Dean glances around awkwardly, partially because staring at a closed door for too long is weird and partially because he hopes he'll see Cas off in the distance somewhere. It doesn't work, but just as Sam starts to suggest they come back later, the door opens. 

It's not Charlie in the doorway, though Dean has no doubt anymore that this is the right house. It takes Dean a second to figure out where he's seen the woman in the doorway before — he blames that on the fact that her hair is down — but she's unmistakably Dorothy from Oz.

"Hey, boys," Dorothy says with a smile. "I was wondering how long it would take for you to stop by."

Sam cocks his head to the side and furrows his brows. "Are you living here?"

"Well, I don't know about 'living,'" Dorothy says, "but this is my place." She pauses. "Well, mine and Charlie's, and I'm guessing that's who you're here to see."

"You guess correctly," Dean says. "Is she here?"

Dorothy steps back. "Yeah, come on in."

Dean steps inside and looks around. It's a small house, fairly mundane in appearance. When Dorothy leads them to the living room, Dean can definitely see that Charlie's made her mark on the place. There are shelves of Funko Pops against the wall, and though Dean admittedly can't name them all, the ones he does recognize are as nerdy as he'd expect from the redhead. 

Charlie is passed out on the living room couch, her arm thrown carelessly over her head with a big chunk of hair in her mouth. Dean bites back a laugh. Even asleep, she's still adorable. 

"We can come back later," Sam offers.

"If Charlie finds out you came by and I didn't wake her up, she'll kill me," Dorothy says. "Which would be a big feat considering I'm already dead, but she'd figure it out." She heads to Charlie's side and taps the girl on the head. 

Charlie bolts upright, mumbling a barely-comprehensible "Merry Christmas!" as she does. She looks around, confused, and a smile grows on her face when she sees the Winchesters. "Oh, hi!"

"Bad time?" Dean asks teasingly. 

"For you? There is no bad time." She hops off the couch with _way_ too much energy for someone who just woke up and runs over to them, wrapping her arms around Dean without a moment of hesitation. Dean hugs her back, reveling in the moment. He'd almost forgotten how much he loved her and her hugs. The moment ends far too soon, and she moves on to hug Sam, too. 

"So," Sam says, glancing between the two women, "you two are living together?"

"We are!" Charlie says, beaming. "I don't even know how it happened. One minute I was reliving an old family Christmas, and the next we were both here."

"We thought, hey, if the universe wants it to happen, it might as well," Dorothy adds. 

"It's been, like, two months," Charlie says, "and she hasn't strangled me yet, so I think we're on the right track."

"Don't worry, Red," Dorothy says, amused. "I didn't strangle you in Oz; I'm not gonna strangle you here."

“You say that now,” Charlie says, "but you still have the rest of eternity to change your mind.".

Dorothy just shakes her head, amused. 

"Anyways." Charlie looks to Sam and Dean. "What have I missed? What's new in Winchesterland?"

Dean shrugs. "The devil had a kid."

"He's cool, though," Sam adds quickly, noticing the looks on the girls' faces, which was admittedly the reaction Dean was going for. "He's been with us since he was born — before he was born, even; Cas was taking care of his mom for a while."

Charlie gapes at him. "So you _adopted_ the son of Satan."

"Pretty much," Sam says. 

"You'd like him," Dean tells her. "Sam already got him into _Star Wars_ , but you could definitely convince him to read _Harry Potter_."

"He likes reading _and_ he likes _Star Wars_?" Charlie repeats, beaming. "I love him already!"

"Is he here?" Dorothy asks. "'Cause I'd like to meet him."

"Not now; he's actually pretty busy," Sam says. "Soon, though — next time we see him, we'll tell him to come by."

Charlie snorts. "Busy? Doing what? Shouldn't he either be dead from old age or what or have magical powers that can get him here at the drop of a hat? There's no way he's too busy to meet his future best friend."

Sam chuckles. "I'm sure he _can_ come here 'at the drop of a hat,' but he's kind of the new God so he's got a lot to do."

"He's _God_?" Dorothy repeats. 

"Just when I thought he couldn't get any cooler!" Charlie squeals. "Being God is no excuse, though. He can take a break from his Godliness for a few minutes to talk about _Star Wars_ with me."

"That's what _I_ said," Dean mutters under his breath. Jack and Cas absolutely could have taken a few minutes off their God trip to swing by and he’s glad Charlie agrees with him, even if Sam doesn’t. 

Sam shoots his brother a disapproving look. “Don’t even start that.”

Dean just rolls his eyes. He’s just being honest. Charlie knows it. Deep down, Sam has to know it, too. Cas and Jack could come by whenever they want, and they continue to choose not to. 

Charlie looks between them, confused. “Okay, I have a feeling I’m missing something.”

“It’s nothing,” Sam assures her.

“A whole lot of nothing,” Dean mutters. That’s all Cas and Jack are giving them: _nothing_.

Charlie cocks an eyebrow. “ _Okay…_ Well, on that note, wanna watch some _Star Wars_? I hear that _Mandalorian_ series is really good.”

“Yes!” Sam says immediately.

“I call the couch!” Dean adds, throwing himself down before his brother can take the end seat. 

Sam groans, exasperated, and Dean just laughs. Charlie plops down next to him, remote in hand, and Dorothy sits on her other side. Sam sighs and takes a seat on the floor in front of them, and it’s _Star Wars_ time. This might be the most fun he’s had since he died -- not neccesarily because he gets to relax and watch TV but because he gets to do it with Charlie for the first time in years -- but he can’t help but think about how much more fun it would be with Cas.


	7. Chapter 7

One would think that after 36 years of spending just about every waking moment with his brother, Dean would see Heaven as a chance to have some time to himself. 

Whoever thinks that is very wrong. 

Sam and Dean may not live together anymore — they live right next door to each other, though, so it's almost the same thing — but they make their trip to the grocery store together anyway. It's not _really_ a grocery store in that they can just walk in and take whatever they want whenever they want it, but it gives off the same vibes as a grocery store and it has pie, so Dean's not too concerned about the terminology. 

"You know," Dean remarks, eyeing the lettuce in his brother's carriage, "you can stop eating that shit now. You don't have to be healthy anymore. It's not like you have a body or whatever."

"Well, maybe I just like salads," Sam says indignantly. "Did you ever think of that?" He plucks a chocolate bar from a shelf as they pass by and drops it in his cart, and Dean snickers. 

" _No one_ likes salads," a familiar voice says. 

The Winchesters turn around to see Claire walking towards them, and seeing her load a bag with nothing but candy is the biggest 'proud father's moment Dean has ever felt. 

"Oh, hey!" Sam says with a smile. "How have you been?"

"Dead," Claire deadpans. She waits just long enough for Sam to try to formulate a coherent response before she laughs. "No, I'm totally messing with you. I've been doing great! It only took 60 years but I finally get to see my parents again!"

"That's awesome!" Dean says. "60 years? So you lived to, what, 70? 80?"

"76," Claire says with a proud smirk. "Don't let anybody tell you that you gotta eat salad for a long life. They are _liars_." She looks pointedly at Sam, who just rolls his eyes. 

"And how are your parents?" Dean asks. "How's your dad?" All the Novaks were dealt pretty shitty hands in life, but Dean's always felt like Jimmy had it the worst. He seemed like such a good guy, too. 

"They're doing pretty good," Claire says. "I mean, they don't pray anymore or whatever and my dad will never wear a trench coat again, but otherwise it's a lot like it was growing up."

"That's good," Dean says. "I'm glad you have _some_ semblance of normalcy."

"And I definitely don't blame your dad about the coat, either," Sam adds with a laugh. 

"So, that's what you've been up to, huh?" Dean asks. "Hanging with your parents and eating boatloads of chocolate?"

"Oh, these?" Claire glances down at her bag of candy. "I'm taking these to Jody's. Owen _loves_ Twix bars."

"Owen," Dean repeats quietly, a small smile on his lips. He hadn't even thought about Owen. For the longest time, Jody's been the adoptive mother of two teenage girls. Sometimes he forgets that before Alex and Claire, Jody had her own son.

"He's so cute," Claire says. "I'm heading over to see him now. We're gonna play on the playground because I too am eight years old at heart. Wanna come? Jody and her husband are gonna be there and I'm sure they could use the company."

Dean shrugs. "I'm game." It'll be nice to see Jody again, and he hasn't seen her family in years — though he's not quite sure their first and last meeting counts, what with them both being dead and/or a zombie at the time.

"I have to bring all my food home because unlike _some_ people —" Sam gives them each a pointed look, "I have fruits and vegetables and I can't leave them in the sun all day."

"Heh." Dean snorts. "Sucks to suck."

"You know where the playground is, right?" Claire asks. 

"Yeah, it's, like, three streets over or something," Sam says. How he knows that, Dean has no idea. Maybe he spends his time exploring the part of Heaven with actual people instead of the woods that Dean likes so much. 

"That's the one," Claire says. "If Dean and I head over now, you wanna meet us there?"

"Sounds like a plan.”

They head their separate ways, and Dean makes a mental note to come back to get his pie later when he can bring it straight home. He and Claire chat on the way over, mostly small talk as Dean drives them a few streets over. 

Logically, Dean knows that Claire lived to be 76 and is actually older than he is, but she still looks and acts like the same 20-something-year-old he knows and loves and he can’t help but treat her as such. He asks her a lot of questions -- and he’s almost surprised she doesn’t tell him off for them -- and he genuinely enjoys hearing the answer. She never got married; she adopted a couple kids as she got older and couldn’t hunt anymore -- “paying it forward,” she’d called it -- and she managed to reconnect with Kaia in Heaven, which she seems pretty excited about. 

It’s nice to see her this happy. She’d always been like a daughter to him, in a weird kind of way. Maybe a niece would be more apt. He’s never really thought of the specifics. All he knows is that he’s always wanted her to find something nice for herself, and the fact that she did makes him happier than he cares to admit.

Eventually they reach the playground and Claire hops out of the moving car even before it’s stopped, her bag of candy in hand. Dean parks the car and follows her, and it doesn’t take long for him to catch sight of Jody and her husband. Claire and Owen are the only two on the playground, both sitting under the monkey bars as Claire rifles through her bag of candy. Those two seem to be doing just fine on their own, so Dean makes his way to Jody and her husband instead. He hopes this isn’t considered third-wheeling.

The smile on Jody’s face before Dean has even reached her is enough to assure him that he’s welcome. As soon as he reaches her, they share a hug, and Dean feels a wave of serenity wash over him. God, he’s missed Jody. It’s always nice to see her again, on Earth _and_ in Heaven.

To her husband, Jody says, “You know those boys I told you about who helped save the town after the whole, you know, zombie thing?”

“I take it this is one of them?” he guesses.

“Dean Winchester,” she says. “And Dean, this is my husband, Sean.”

“Nice to finally meet you,” Dean says, offering a hand for Sean to shake.

“Nice to meet you, too,” Sean replies. “Jody’s told me all about you. It sounds like I owe you big time for your help.”

Dean shakes his head. “Just part of the job.”

“Saving the town might have been ‘part of the job,’” Sean says, “but I don’t think that taking care of my wife was, so thank you.” 

Dean scoffs. “She took better care of my brother and me than we did of her,” he says. 

Jody smiles sheepishly. “Well, you know, if you’d stop getting way in over your head…”

“You and I both know that was never going to happen,” Dean says playfully. He really didn’t have much of a choice about getting in over his head, but even if he did, he probably wouldn’t have stopped. 

To her husband, Jody says, “In case you were wondering, that’s where Claire gets it from.”

Sean chuckles. “I had a feeling.”

“So you two are still watching over Claire, huh?” Dean asks. 

“Claire doesn’t let _anybody_ watch over her,” Jody reminds him. “But, you know, between us, her parents, and Kaia, she’s mostly staying out of trouble.”

“But she eats an ungodly amount of sugar,” Sean says, looking over Dean’s shoulder at her and his son. 

Dean glances back to see Claire hanging upside-down off the monkey bars, a lollipop in her mouth. Owen stands in front of her, laughing way too hard in the way that children love to do. 

But beyond them are two other people -- two people who hadn’t been there just a minute or two earlier. Those are the two that really catch his attention. Cas and Jack are standing at a distance, seemingly deep in conversation and paying no attention to Dean or anyone else here. The first few times, these random appearances were just an annoyance. After so long of radio silence on their end, it means a lot more now. 

“I know,” Jody says, and he can practically _hear_ her smile, “they’re just so cute. Who would have thought Claire would make such a good mom?”

“Older sister, more like,” Sean says. “No good mom lets her son have that much candy.”

If they can see Claire and Owen, they should be able to see Jack and Cas, too. The fact that they can’t is disconcerting, but it’s not the first time. Hell, so far it seems the only person who _has_ seen either of them is Benny, so the fact that Jody and Sean can’t see him shouldn’t be a surprise.

After a brief moment of deliberation, Dean says an absentminded, “Hey, I’ll be right back,” his gaze never straying from Cas’s face. Yes, he knows he’s more likely to make a fool of himself (again) than to get some answers, but he can’t just look at Cas and _not_ try to talk to him. 

Dean ignores the concerned questions from Jody and Sean as he walks away, watching Cas intently. If and when Cas disappears, he wants to know. He wants to see it himself. He wants proof that Cas is avoiding him, even if the angel has made it painstakingly obvious. 

This time is different. This time, Cas’s attention is entirely focused on Jack. This time, the angel doesn’t even know Dean is here until they’re almost close enough to touch.

Cas’s eyes widen at the sight of him. “Dean.”

Dean can’t help but smile. “Hey, Cas.”

Jack jumps in, wrapping his arms around the ex-hunter and pulling him into a hug. “Dean, you’re here! It’s been so long!”

Dean chuckles, patting his back. “Well, you know, don’t really have anywhere else to go, what with being dead and all.”

“Oh, I’m sorry about that, by the way,” Jack says. “I didn’t know you’d died until after it happened or I would’ve stepped in to help.”

“It’s fine,” Dean assures him, stepping back and patting his shoulder once more. “I had a good run. I was ready to go.”

“And now you get to see what Cas and I have been up to!” Jack adds. “Isn’t this place great? It’s everything you ever wanted, right?”

“It’s pretty damn close,” Dean says. “Kinda lonely, though.”

Jack pauses, confused. “Lonely?”

“Yeah, lonely,” Dean repeats. 

“But…” Jack cocks his head to the side. “But you get to see all your friends again. You even get to see Sam again even though he outlives you by, like, 30 years. This is -- well, it _should_ be -- everyone and everything you wanted to see.” He looks up at Cas. “Did we make a mistake?”

Cas is just looking at Dean, his head tilted and his eyes squinted like he used to do all those years ago when he was trying to figure the boy out. Dean waits for him to say something -- _anything_ \-- but he’s silent. 

Dean swallows hard. “Um, Cas? Are, uh… are you okay?”

“I was wondering the same thing about you,” Cas says. “This should be everything you wanted. It’s _designed_ to be everything you wanted. So why are you never truly happy?”

With Cas’s gaze still on him, still studying him so intently, it’s hard for Dean to form a coherent sentence. The best he can muster is, “I don’t -- I don’t know.”

“What can I fix?” Jack asks. “What did we get wrong? Just say the word.”

It’s easier to think when he’s looking at the kid, so he keeps his gaze on the nephilim as he says, “There’s nothing _to_ fix.”

“There has to be,” Jack says, puzzled. “Everyone else is happy. Every other person in every other Heaven --”

“I thought this was one Heaven,” Dean interrupts. That was the deal. That’s supposed to be why they’re not reliving all their greatest hits: Jack and Cas fixed the place up so they can start all over again in the afterlife. 

“Oh. Um…” Jack looks at Cas helplessly.

“What?” Dean asks cautiously. “What’s going on? What aren’t you telling me?” He waits for Jack to answer, but it’s Cas who does. 

“Jack and I are still working through how to make that possible,” Cas says. “But there are too many variables, too many unknowns to just do it. Right now, we’re still in the experimental phase.”

“Oh.” Well, that’s okay. If it’s still going to happen eventually, he supposes he can’t complain that they haven’t worked out the details. “So that’s why you haven’t been around? You’re just working on reshaping Heaven, huh?” 

Cas waits just long enough before saying “Yes” for Dean to know he’s full of bullshit. 

“And what else have you been up to?” Dean asks, a little more accusatory than he should be but he just can’t help it. “You know, other than staring at me from a thousand feet away and making me think I’m losing my mind when no one else but Benny can see you?”

“Dean…”

Dean crosses his arms. “What, Cas? It’s a simple question.”

“No,” Cas says. “It’s not.”

The two just look at each other, and Dean narrows his eyes, silently daring Cas to explain what the hell he’s been up to. 

After a few tense moments, Jack breaks in with a tentative, “But did you like seeing Benny again? We were trying our hand at bringing ‘monsters’ to Heaven and Cas said he thought you’d like to see Benny again, so I took him out of Purgatory and brought him here.”

“Cas said that,” Dean repeats incredulously.

“Um…” Jack looks up at the angel uncertainly. “Yes?”

“Benny and I may not have gotten along very well,” Cas says, “but he’s a good man. He had a chance at redemption and he took it. He deserved this.”

“No, Cas, that’s actually _not_ what I had a problem with,” Dean snaps. “You have been back and forth from Heaven, Earth, freaking _Purgatory_ , and the only way I could get you to talk to me was sneaking up when you weren’t paying attention?”

Cas drops his gaze to the ground. “Dean…”

“No, don’t ‘ _Dean_ ’ me,” Dean snaps. “Do you know how many times I prayed to you? Actually, no, don’t answer that. Of course you know how many times I prayed to you. You always do, which means you _ignored me_ for _weeks_. It shouldn’t be this hard to talk to my best freaking friend, Cas!”

Cas sighs, and when he speaks, his voice is quiet, full of emotion that Dean can’t read. “Jack, will you give us a minute?”

Jack nods in understanding. “I’ll see both soon.” He gives Dean a reassuring pat on the shoulder before disappearing, leaving Dean and Cas alone.

“Well?” Dean prompts him. “What’s going on?”

“You’re right,” Cas says quietly. “I _have_ been avoiding you.”

Dean scoffs. “Well, gee, thanks for that.”

“Dean, you don’t understand.” Cas raises his gaze to meet the man’s. “The last time we spoke, that was supposed to be the end. I was never supposed to see you again.”

“Yeah, well, surprise, your death didn’t stick,” Dean deadpans. “It never does. That’s never stopped you from coming back before.”

“This time was different,” Cas says. “I’d made my peace with it. I’d _found_ peace with it.”

“So what?” Dean asks. “I made my peace with dying, too. You don’t see me avoiding anyone up here.”

“No, Dean --” Cas sighs. “You really don’t get it.”

“Get _what_?” Dean asks, exasperated. “Spit it out, man. What the hell is going on with you?”

“When I died, I cemented my legacy,” Cas says. “The legacy that has been used to taunt me time and time again -- the legacy I took pride in. My legacy is and always has been the angel who fell in love with humanity. The angel who fell in love with _you_.”

Dean remembers their last conversation vividly. He remembers every excruciating detail, all the way down to the tears in Cas’s eyes as he said, “I love you.” At the time, Dean had assumed it was just a heartfelt goodbye. Listening to Cas speak now, he’s starting to realize it was something more.

Cas gives this a moment to sink in before continuing. “I was never going to tell you. After 12 years by your side, I’d decided that just being your friend was enough -- better than losing you entirely, at least. You were the one thing I could never truly have. Not like that. But what I did have… it was enough.”

Dean doesn’t speak at first, just looking at the angel with a frown. All the pent-up frustration he’d been preparing to let out vanishes, replacing itself with… Dejection? Despair? _Hope?_

“Cas,” Dean says finally, shaking his head in disbelief, “you dumb son of a bitch.”

To say Cas seems taken aback by that would be an understatement. He cocks his head to the side, squinting at him.

“Are you trying to tell me that you’ve been avoiding me because, what, you’re _embarrassed_?” Dean asks. “You thought I was gonna, what, spit in your face? Tell you to get lost? Cas, man, you are the best thing to ever happen to me, and I am _not_ letting you walk out on that.”

“So you don’t care that I…?” Cas trails off uncertainty. 

“That you love me?” Dean finishes for him. “Cas…” He takes a step towards the angel, resting a hand on his shoulder. “I’m glad you told me. I’m not… I don’t know, I’m not mad? I’m not uncomfortable? Whatever you’re afraid that I would be, I’m not.”

“You’re not?” 

Dean shakes his head. “No, I’m not. But there’s one thing you were wrong about.”

Castiel tilts his head ever-so-slightly. “Which is?”

Dean smiles. “I was never the one thing you couldn’t have.”

“What?”

Dean cups Cas’s face in his hand, gazing into the angel’s eyes -- those beautiful, almost _supernaturally_ blue eyes. Cas’s brow furrow together slightly, wearing that confused look Dean has grown so accustomed to seeing. This time is different; this time there’s something more in his expression, a glimmer of hope in his eyes.

Dean had never thought to do this before, but in the moment, it just feels natural. He presses their lips together. Clearly taken aback, it takes Cas a few seconds to kiss him back, and when he does, it’s like _magic_. He doesn’t know how they’ve gone 12 years without this even crossing his mind, but now, he doesn’t want to stop.

When the kiss ends, their lips part but their faces don’t, their foreheads pressed together. 

“I should’ve told you this a long time ago,” Dean says quietly, “but Cas?”

“Hm?” Cas hums.

“I love you too.”


End file.
